<sub>[It's quiet.]

[In more ways than one.]

[Actually, 'quiet' is a pretty good word to describe everything over the past few days, from Heather's perspective.]

[She's been quiet. After making an angry spectacle of herself in front of everyone, she hadn't been in much of a talkative mood. The trip down Route 38 had been spent largely in solemn silence, even after Crow had joined them mid-journey-- something that practically didn't seem possible.]

[The network's been quiet. Relatively, anyway. So many previously-prolific voices had vanished. Those who were left had understandably been left to pick up the pieces of everything that had come undone and, well, it's hard to blame them for being quiet-- those ones who had lost people, anyway. God knows Heather couldn't muster the fire to keep getting angrier as word of new disappearances had continued to flow in. The moment when she had seriously considered destroying a harmless Pokemon egg and its contents had been the moment she'd burnt herself out.]

[And, perhaps the only one that's sort of comforting right now, the city is quiet. The hustle and bustle of summer is both long ago and far in the future and as such, Olivine City in February is a great deal calmer than it had been the last time Heather had been here. That's sort of good, really. They've all needed to do a lot of thinking lately.]



[It's morning-- hardly even dawn yet.]

[At first, the camera isn't even SHOWING Heather. More a very close view of the floor, and the railing at the top of the staircase leading up from the lobby of the Olivine Inn. The cameraman is probably a Pokemon, but who knows which one it is... Godzilla has long since retired from his 'Gear-stealing shenanigans and so has Butch, now that he can WOOOOOO and QUAAAAAAG at his beloved Flapper in person.]

[But whichever one it is, it carries the camera with an air of quiet determination, and once it situates itself within view of its trainer, who seems to be sitting silently by a window in the deserted lobby, it sits itself down with a rustle and zooms in.]



[Eyes shut, she almost looks asleep, except for the fact that she's absent-mindedly stroking something with one finger-- something bristly-looking and pale yellow that seems to be in the process of contentedly nuzzling its way under her chin. ... Something with four bright blue eyes not dissimilar to the odd markings on that little egg she had been threatening to crush last week.]

[The video doesn't last long. It lingers on Heather and the new Pokemon for fifteen or twenty seconds, and then shuts off. Whoever had been filming, it seemed, had no agenda outside of showing the network that, no, Heather had not gone through with her impulsive plan. Fortunately.]


[The whole time, Heather just carries on obliviously.]

[Remembering hurts... but there's nothing anybody can do to change that.]

[Half to herself and half to the creature, who doesn't seem to be aware of how close it had come to maybe NOT EVER GETTING TO HATCH, she mumbles after a few seconds.]</sub>

... Stage five. I think.

That's acceptance, right?

_{[Before the video shows anything, there's some shuffling sounds, and then the tell-tale noise of a cardboard package being ripped open. Then, Heather's voice, muffled at first, speaks up.]}


... Again?

<sub>[She sounds surprised. ... Unpleasantly so.]

[The 'Gear is tugged out of her pocket at that point, its view wavering and then settling on the torn-open box she apparently just received by Dragonite delivery, in the Ecruteak inn lobby. The Dragonite in question is already slinging its mailbag over its shoulder and lumbering out the door, visible over the edge of the box.]

[Much like one of Heather's posts from earlier in the month, inside the box sits a single Pokeball. She had pulled out the 'Gear to check the Trainer ID, and doesn't realize it's on yet. There's some clacking noises as she thumbs the buttons a little distractedly... and then she gets her answer.]</sub>

... God dammit...

<sub>[Her voice had gone from surprised to resigned in a surprisingly short amount of time, but then, given the number of friends of hers disappearing lately... that's hardly surprising. And in this case, it's one that's hitting her a little harder than she might have previously thought. Of all the presences in Johto she hadn't even begun to think might up and poof out of existence one day... and this is one that she'd still had so many questions for.]

[That little praying mantis soul skittering down the streets in my head... that really WAS him, wasn't it.]

[She heaves a sigh and her hand appears, reaching into the box to take the ball out.]</sub>

Might as well see who I got...

_{[She presses the button with her thumb and triggers the obligatory flash of white light...]}


.... What the-- ... aw, HELL.

<sub>[Wow. From surprised, to resigned, to.... indignant?]

[The dazzling light fades after a second or two, and shows....]</sub>

GENGKI--GEN GENGAR GAR GARRHH GURRH!

_{[... A Gengar that, if it were speaking English, would surely be cussing everyone and their grandmothers out in language so foul it would make a sailor blush. Heather is already recoiling from it, groaning out loud. Of course. Of course he'd leave her... THAT.]}

God dammit... of all the-- HEY. Hey, GHOST... thing.

_{[Slightly the Gengar, who had clearly been cooped up in that ball for quite some time during transit and is now in the foulest of moods and wondering where the hell L is, turns his red-eyed glare on Heather, and the 'Gear. >8( WHAT!]}

Look, Ryuzaki's ... ghost thing, I know you're probably pissed, but me and ghosts? Don't get along. So if you're gonna-- ... I dunno, be part of my team or whatever, I'd better not get any of that funny business from you, all right?

<sub>[She remembers the angry messages scrawled all over L's hotel-room walls, okay?]

[Needless to say, the ghost Pokemon merely scrunches his face up in response. Who's THIS bitch?! He raises both stubby paw-hands and proceeds to flip off his new trainer without so much as a how-do-you-do. Heather (still not visible-- the 'Gear is dangling idly in her hand by her side) just huffs.]</sub>

Now, see, that? You can do THAT all you want. Just don't touch my stuff, or my roomies, or do any of your freaky-ass ghost shit, okay? ... Okay. Great. Ugh...

_{[She starts to turn away. Better go upstairs and brace Henry for the fact that there was now going to be a GHOST hanging around on occasio-- askhg';JGA;LDFKJG';S WHAFUCK--]}

( And then there was chaos. )


K;LJSDG;FHJDL;G


DFSGJLFGH;H

GSGGG


JHHJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ





_{[ooc: Responses will come either... mid-fight or after things have settled down. Ecruteak-goers, feel free to experience the wonder that is a teenage girl rolling around on the floor and trying to punch a ghost.]}

<sub>[So what's the best thing for someone who's been spending their time alternately fretting and pretending not to be fretting over circumstances well beyond their control?]

[A) More fretting
B) Meditation
C) A DISTRACTION]

[If anyone answered anything other than C, they're either very silly, or Cooper.]

[Heather is neither (.... okay, maybe she's the former quite often), so needless to say... when the posters for the Johto-wide fighting tournament going on in Goldenrod City hit the streets, they were the first thing to catch her eye. In fact, anyone spending any amount of time with her in person has probably noticed the way she's been stopping in the middle of whatever she was doing every single time she passes one of the damn things to look at it contemplatively, with a cocked head and a sort of half-wistful, half-devilish look in her eye.]

[As such, nobody whatsoever should be surprised when she pops up on the network on the day of signups ending with one of the flyers in hand. She'd been waffling on account of the fact that her father was sure do disapprove, but... man, she's been spoiling for something like this for months, and she's got... more than a little steam to blow off. Steam that isn't always so easy to blow off in a world where society expects you to resolve all your conflicts by letting animals do your fighting for you.]</sub>

YO Johto, what's the happs?

_{[She grins broadly and then flourishes the poster at the screen.]}

Guys. Guys. Look.

Look at this.

Best thing ever, or BEST thing ever?

Who else's gonna sign up?

I'M gonna. ... Assuming the puppy-eyes work on Dad, I guess. They're a little rusty but I was once the puppy-eyes champion so I should be okay. And for anybody weirded out by the surreal idea of ME doing puppy-eyes, ask yourselves this: how ELSE could I have gotten away with all the crazy crap you totally know I got up to as a kid?

_{[A sly, knowing nod.]}

Yeah, makes more sense now, doesn't it.

ANYWAY.

_{[Another flourish of the poster.]}

So if any of you are planning on being in this thing, gimme a shout! I wanna size up the competition and stuff. ... And also, transportation? I'm in Ecruteak, so... if anyone's in the area, I guess we could carpool, or something? _{[She's not opposed to the idea of leaping on a strange Pidgeot if she HAS TO, buuuuut...]} I mean, the Tournament isn't supposed to LAST too long, so I'm guessin' we'd all only be gone for like... what, a week or two at most? Then I'd be headed back to Ecruteak because seriously, nice place.

Anyway... _{[She trails off, eyes flicking off to the side of the screen.]} I'd better go convince Dad that I won't die if I do this. _{[Eyes back to the screen, she gives a somber, soldier-like nod and salutes solemnly.]} Wish me luck, my people.

<sub>[BOOP. End feed.]

[TIME TO GO FIND DAD.]</sub>

<sub>[It always seems like autumn in the woodland town of Ecruteak. But when it's actually autumn, the colors are mind-blowing.]

[Heather might not be one of those 'let's walk quietly in nature and be alone with our thoughts' types, but she can appreciate the beauty of the world when she sees it! Which is why, accompanied by a small chorus of footsteps as she and the rest of the gang tromp into Ecruteak City, she's got the 'Gear out and is pointing it around at the explosion of color decorating the trees.]</sub>

Man, why did we skip this place again? It's friggin' gorgeous. Reminds me of home!

<sub>[New England autumns were one thing she had sort of missed since coming here. There weren't many of those]

[As the quaint buildings start coming into view, though, the 'Gear spins as she turns to the rest of the group-- her father, Henry, and the terrible trio of Kaito, Crow, and Aoko. ... Along with, of course, the Pokemon ambling alongside them all (or being carried).]</sub>

Hey, I dunno if you guys wanna go on to the inn or whatever, but I'm gonna make a quick stop at the Mart, okay? If you don't wanna come in with me, I can catch up with ya later. <sub>[Doop doop gotta restock on sun lotion. :I]

[She heads into the store, greeted by the swish of the doorway and a burst of air-conditioning-- summer's still clinging on enough to make the sunny day hot, even in September. A couple of minutes of browsing later (a nice shady inn room and a nap sound awesome right now, so she's not exactly into lingering), she approaches the counter with her purchase (and a little bottle of Aprijuice for Godzilla because he had tugged on her shirt and looked pitiful when they passed the display) and puts them down, digging in her bag and speaking to the cashier a little distractedly.]</sub>

Hey, could you feed the receipt into my 'Gear so I can keep track? Thanks.

_{[She sort of forgot the camera was on, apparently-- but the cashier takes the 'Gear and does so, before pausing and blinking down at the screen.]}

... Oh! Your name's Heather Mason?

_{[... Buh?]}

Uh... yeah. Why?

_{[Is it bad that her first thought is that this guy is like the Jennies from Violet and actually remembers that time a warrant for arrest went out with her name on it? But he doesn't seem accusatory-- instead, he's propping the 'Gear on the counter and bending down to get something from under the register.]}

We received a package with your name on it a little while ago and we've been holding onto it. Here.

_{[He passes over a slender box, with a few stickers and stamps on it-- looks like it's been sent around a few different places before it finally found her. Looking confused, Heather takes it, looking down at it with furrowed brows.]}

... There's no sender name on it?

<sub>[The cashier shrugs, making a baffled 'iunno' noise.]

[Heather glances downwards at the two Pokemon who had come with her into the shop, who look just as baffled as she does. ... Well, Arty kind of looks... angrily baffled, but there you go. Then, shrugging, she slips the top off the box and pulls out its contents.]



[Two Pokeballs ... and a worn-out old cloth green headband.]

[Heather's heart sinks immediately. She knows exactly who this package is from...]



[A few minutes later, she emerges from the shop, the bandanna carefully folded back into the box and put in her bag for safekeeping, but the Pokeballs are still in her hand. Stopping once she's out in the sunlight, she puts her bag down and looks at the balls contemplatively for a moment or so, before turning her head to look at the autumn foliage again.]</sub>

... I'll take care of 'em, Dave.

<sub>[... Wow okay, mumbling to thin air like he could hear her. That was dumb. ... But it made her feel a little better, anyway.]

[Rolling her shoulders, she puts a grin on her face and tosses the Pokeballs into the air, releasing their residents in the usual bright flash of light. Even if Snake was gone... it's good to see them again.]

[She raises her arms to meet the joyful trills of the larger of the two, and as she does so, looks over her shoulder and hollers--]</sub>

( HEY, DAD! Wanna see what Lisa's gonna look like when she's all grown up? )



_{[ooc: Responses will come shortly, gonna go get somethin to eat B). Action for anyone in Ecruteak!]}

<sub>[The feed opens in a decidedly innocent fashion. It's jauntily wobbling back and forth as its holder walks, and the screen is filled by a big blue :D face, backed by an even bluer sky. ... And the occasional waving green tips from the sand dunes he's passing. Yes, Butch the Quagsire is on the beach, waddling happily down to the shore with Heather's 'Gear-- perhaps stolen in hopes of being able to carry on a happy WOOOOO-filled long-distance conversation with Flapper.]

[But an angry-sounding gurgle rings out behind him-- and Butch turns to face his pursuer, who is equally blue, but a great deal smaller.]</sub>

Ttt-t-toto!


QUAAAA--

<sub>[What follows is a very shaky view of the sky jittering around as the two Pokemon engage in a fierce tug-of-war over the gadget. Occasionally their faces pop into view, and while it's more or less impossible for a Quagsire to actually look angry, it's obvious that it's a heated debate. Finally, apparently deciding that it's too much trouble, Butch lets go of the 'Gear with a huffy 'QUA!' and waddles off.]

[Godzilla's concerned red eyes appear in front of the screen as he checks over the 'Gear delicately, as if checking to make sure it wasn't damaged. Anyone who's gotten used to the Totodile's presence in Heather's transmissions before may note that he seems a lot more... contrite than usual, maybe? Which has actually been the case ever since the OMNOM ELBOW incident a couple months before... strange.]

[In any case, once satisfied, he sets off waddling back across the sand, determinedly. If anyone's actually cared enough to keep watching that long (or is just tuning in now), his destination becomes apparent immediately.]

[In a shady spot juuuuust where the sand starts to shift over to grass and trees, Heather is sprawled on her back on an unused old picnic table, arms folded behind her head, along with her wadded-up vest for a pillow. There's a few old chip bags and soda bottles scattered around the little sun-dappled area, but it would seem that whoever left them had probably packed up and left much earlier, since Heather's the only one there.]

[... That's probably why she's there... judging from the dull, despondent quality of the way she's staring up at the foliage above.]

[And then she's lost from view briefly, as Godzilla struggles to clamber up to her, first onto the bench-seat, and then the tabletop itself. Then he's standing next to her and fumbling with the 'Gear, giving viewers a view first of her jeans pocket, then one hand, then the card-deck pattern on her shirt, then (inexplicably) a zoomed-in view of worn-out wooden table-top, before it finally settles on her face as he presents the 'Gear to her with a self-important gurgle that can only be an attempt to tattle on Butch.]

[At first, she doesn't even turn her head. It's pretty obvious her mind is elsewhere. But when he tries again, this time nudging her shoulder with the 'Gear, a flicker of irritability crosses her face and she looks over.]</sub>

... Zilla, what--

<sub>[... Oh. It's the 'Gear. ... And the damn red light is blinking.]

[... Heather frowns with lidded eyes and shoves the 'Gear away.]</sub>

Get that thing outta my face.

_{[The Totodile makes an apologetic (and slightly hurt) sound, but relinquishes the 'Gear when she takes it and ends the feed abruptly.]}






[Private text to Harry Mason and Henry Townshend]

Hey

I was thinking maybe we could try and head east to Ecruteak City in a few days??


We've been here awhile now

<sub>[So something happened that morning. Something ... owly.]

[What, exactly, do you do when you suddenly find yourself in possession of way more fluffy spherical owls than anyone would know what to do with?]

[... TRY AND MAKE SOME MONEY OFF OF THEM, OF COURSE!]

[Anyone in Olivine City, whether they've settled down with a house or are just staying there temporarily, may witness a rather odd sight on this sunny Saturday afternoon.]

[A teenage girl and a scruffy twenty-something man, toting bold-printed signs and... what seems to be a large red wagon full of Hoothoots]

[Behind them, a rambunctious oversized Growlithe, and-- a little further back-- a middle-aged fellow in a brown coat (despite the summer heat), toting a Togepi and a Pichu and keeping his distance, because it's totally uncool for a parent to walk right next to the kids while they're trick-or-treating (although either he or one of the Pokemon would seem to be filming them surreptitiously with the 'Gear on and off, judging by the snippets of Hoothoot Sale Adventures occasionally popping up on the network).]

[... Or in this case, being the best little owl salesmen ever. Even if Henry doesn't particularly look like he wants to be there. Still, the little parade almost looks like it needs some kind of ridiculous owl-selling theme music.]

[Throughout the day, if anyone has a residence in Olivine, they may have THIS show up on their doorstep:]


[... And the girl will glance over at her companion, see that he's not planning on speaking up, and then clear her throat loudly.]</sub>

HEY there, good sir and-or madam!

Would you like to buy an owl?




[ooc: Anyone over the network is free to purchase their own adorable roly-poly spherical owl for 500P! It's assumed that any left will be sold to people here and there in Olivine. Except for the derpiest two. Heather has special recipients in mind for those.]

<sub>[The screen is slightly steamed up when it comes on, but it soon clears enough to give a shaky view of the ... bathroom floor, and part of a towel? It doesn't stay there, though. Instead, the focus seems to be (or is TRYING to be) on the football-sized black thing zipping across the floor and out of view.]

[Then the camera awkwardly turns to the face of its holder, who apparently just get out of the shower, judging by the way her hair is plastered down wetly around the sides of her face and the towel she's got wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak. Said shoulders are hunched. Apparently she's perched on the edge of the bathtub. No questionable steamy semi-nude shots from THIS girl, though-- this is SERIOUS BUSINESS, and Heather's voice is an odd mix between amused, proud, and exasperated.]</sub>

This is a Public Services Announcement about why you shouldn't let your Pokemon into the bathroom when they're about to level up even if they do like playing in all the water leftover after a shower.

Watch and be enlightened.

<sub>[The camera turns to the floor again as Heather slowly and methodically sticks one foot out and sets it down on the tile.]

[INSTANTLY and without any warning, the black thing comes streaking back onto the camera with the intention of violently attacking its trainer's toes with a long yellow beak and a volley of chittering squawks.]

[Heather yanks her foot up again with a small shriek and the Murkrow goes scuttling off behind the sink.]</sub>

See? SEE?

Here, I'll repeat the demonstration for anyone who may have missed that.

Everybody watching?

<sub>[She repeats the motion, this time putting both feet on the ground.]

[The attack-crow reappears, wings flared and beak wide-open. It squabbles and pecks around in circles around Heather's feet for a second or two before, once again, skittering off across the floor to hide in the bath curtains, tiny claws clicking on the tiles.]</sub>

I can't make it more than a couple of steps without getting Murkrow'd. I used to be able to outrun her, but now she's like an unstoppable toe-eating machine.

And all because of this.

_{[She presses a button on the 'Gear to make it repeat its last automated message. Which it does, in a cheerful computerized voice.]}

<sub>[You know when you wake up and you feel like there's a leaden weight sitting on your chest, stopping you from moving? Most of the time when that happens, it's because of sleep paralysis. Somewhat less of the time, it's a close encounter of the third kind. ... This time, however, it's a very large Furret curled up neatly in the middle of Heather's chest, taking advantage of the fact that her trainer both produces heat and is stationary and comfortable, AND of the fact that there is currently a brief moment in which nobody is looking over in this direction to shoo her away.]

[... Except that Heather's not going to be stationary much longer.]

[The first thing that happens that disrupts the vacant, sleeping stupor of Heather's face is a wince and a scrunched nose, because fluffy Furret tails are not the best things to have brushing up against your nostrils when you're coming out of a deep sleep.]</sub>

Nhngngnh...

<sub>[Ffffh what was-- what. Oh, ow. Opening eyes that haven't seen light in a good seven days kind of hurts. And trying to talk through a throat that hasn't made a single noise kind of hurts too, which is why all that Heather manages at first is a sort of croak.]

[But that croak is enough to get SOMEBODY'S attention.]

[From the foot of the bed, Cujo snorts into wakefulness from where he's been faithfully sleeping on his trainer's ankles. With a deep wuff, he surges to his feet and joyfully clambers over the blanketed body, stepping on Arty and causing her to vacate her perch atop Heather's chest with an indignant hiss, until he's standing over her with a great big doggy smile and a paw on either side of her.]

[Heather squints up at him, scrunching up her face. On one hand, the sight of those floppy orange ears and big black nose is one for sore eyes, but on the other... oh god does she not want to see a dog right now after the kinds of dreams she'd been having...]

[Coughing and lifting her arms weakly, she tries to shove him away long enough for her to get her bearings.]</sub>

Cooj, gimme some spac-- acklPHTHG OFF.

_{[No force in this world or any other could stop Cujo from greeting his favorite human being's return to wakefulness with lots of licking. Startled into a slightly more awake state, Heather makes a still-sleepy noise of disgust and shoves feebly at the Growlithe, scooting away.]}

Dammit, mutt, I mean i--

<sub>[Turns out, trying to slip out of bed after not moving for a week? Hurts, too. WHOMP. Face, meet hotel room floor. And possibly part of Henry's sleeping bag.]




[A few minutes later, presumably after proving sufficiently to her father that she's not DEAD, the feed clicks on, revealing a very, very bedraggled Heather who looks like she went a week WITHOUT sleeping instead of spending the whole time unconscious.]</sub>

Mornin'.... what'd I miss?



_{[ooc: Because the nightmare threads will likely affect CR pretty strongly, I'll tag them as long as anybody wants/it takes them to be finished! I'm also fine with discussing their outcomes, though, if anyone needs a conclusion right away.]}